


Roll 'Em, Cowboy

by swampslip



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Come Marking, Coming In Pants, Coming Out, Coming Untouched, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Gay John Marston, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sex dice, Teasing, Valentine's Day, bedroom games, i usually default to them being pan but john can have a lil gay as a treat, pan arthur, this is like 3.5k of repressed foreplay, too competitive for their own good lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29413401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampslip/pseuds/swampslip
Summary: “These those ‘naughty dice’?”“... There really ain’t anythin’- Most of this stuff is for sex, Arthur,” John says thickly, “Sorry.”“They’re dice, John, that’s a game, right?”“Yeah, but what’s on them?” John stresses.Arthur hums and peers at the pink dice seeing the first dice covered with actions, the second with body parts, and the third with durations of time.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	Roll 'Em, Cowboy

**Author's Note:**

> happy vawentines, first of a couple fics lol

“Pretty sad to be alone on Valentine’s,” Arthur mumbles, gesturing with his beer at John, third, fourth, maybe fifth. 

The two of them sprawled on the couch in John’s apartment. 

“You’re also alone, Arthur.”

“I ain’t alone,” Arthur sits up and coos, pressing his cold bottle to John’s bare side and making the younger man jolt, “I got you, Johnny.”

“That’s even sadder,” John huffs and shoves his hand away, “‘Sides who wants to go on some cheesy date tryna do corny shit just to score some? Ain’t never worth it.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, leaning back on the armrest. 

“This is why Abigail left you.”

“Pretty sure she left me ‘cause I’m gay, actually,” John drawls, almost slurring and Arthur just snorts again. 

“Oh yeah.”

“Asshole,” John mutters, shifting his legs and stretching out, shoving his feet into the older man’s lap. 

“You love ‘em!” Arthur says, almost a cheer, toasting his beer at John who stares at him incredulously for a moment before hesitantly laughing. 

They fall quiet for a moment, some chick-flick or another playing quietly on the TV but neither of them paying attention. 

“What kinda corny shit did y’all do?”

“Hm?” John tilts his head back to look at Arthur, “Me n’ Abi?”

“Yeah, you said you did corny shit to try n’ score. Like what?”

“Like… Buyin’ lil’ heart-shaped boxes of shitty chocolate and ugly flowers and all that shit,” John mutters, “Lingerie and ‘bedroom games’, y’know?”

“Oh?” Arthur prompts curiously, “Bedroom games, huh?”

John’s cheeks go pink and he squirms on the couch. 

“Yeah, think she took most of ‘em, but,” John gestures behind himself towards the bedroom, “Y’know, ‘couples paintin’s’ and ‘naughty dice’.”

“Oh,” Arthur coos, “Those kinda games.”

John doesn’t rise to the bait, his face still flushed. 

“You still got some of ‘em?”

“Yeah, in the closet,” John says quietly. 

“Why don’t you go get ‘em?”

John blinks and sits up a little straighter, staring at him. 

“What?” John asks hoarsely, “Why?”

“I mean we can still play some of them, right? Just cut out the couples shit.”

“... I- Yeah, I guess?” John says but his voice is a little thin. 

Arthur huffs and shoves John’s feet off his lap. 

“Well go! S’better than watchin’ this-” Arthur says with a dismissive gesture at the TV. 

John hesitates for another moment then drags himself off the couch and disappears into the bedroom. 

Arthur sits up and starts clearing off the coffee table, expecting to lay out one of the games. 

John comes back out with a small box, stopping a couple yards away and peeking inside before coming all the way over and setting it down on the table. 

“Whatcha got, Johnny?” Arthur asks and sits back against the cushions, “Somethin’ fun?”

“Depends on your idea of ‘fun’,” John mutters but dumps out the contents onto the cleared space then sits. 

There are a couple small velvet bags that are secretive and enticing and Arthur immediately goes for the closest one, prying the drawstring open and peering inside. 

All he sees is gleaming silver metal, a small but instantly recognizable shape, bulbous with a wider base. 

John won’t meet his eyes when he looks up. 

Arthur clears his throat and sets the bag with the buttplug back in the box. 

“Thought you said games.”

“I didn’t see that one when I checked,” John says hoarsely. 

“Alrighty-” Arthur clears his throat again and sifts through some of the other things, his eyes drawn to a threesome of big, pink dice, “Oh, hello.” 

Picking them up in the little acrylic container and turning it over in his hands. 

“These those ‘naughty dice’?”

“... There really ain’t anythin’- Most of this stuff is for sex, Arthur,” John says thickly, “Sorry.”

“They’re dice, John, that’s a game, right?”

“Yeah, but what’s _on_ them?” John stresses. 

Arthur hums and peers at the pink dice seeing the first dice covered with actions, the second with body parts, and the third with durations of time. 

He looks back up at John. 

“I don’t even remember,” John mutters, “We never used them.”

“... Well some of them aren’t that bad,” Arthur argues, breaking the tape on the container and dropping them into his lap before turning them over, “Tickle, massage, ears, feet…”

John doesn’t respond. 

“How’s about…” Arthur hums and tosses the dice to John, “If it’s too strange we can just roll again?”

“... Arthur.”

“C’mon, I’m _bored_ ,” Arthur groans and lays back, “Roll ‘em, Cowboy.”

John stares at him for a moment longer then sighs and rolls the dice. 

Blinking and immediately re-rolling one of them. 

“Uh… Massage, thighs, ten seconds,” John reads out quietly. 

Arthur quirks a brow at him and grins. 

“I get a massage?”

“For _ten seconds,”_ John emphasizes roughly then shifts onto his knees, muttering as he leans closer, “‘M gonna need another drink.”

He settles his hand on Arthur’s thigh and squeezes through the denim, pressing his lips together at the firm muscle under his hands, trying to keep count in his head as Arthur looks up at him cheekily and John’s face flushes darker. 

John does try to make it good though, gripping and dragging his fingers firmly, but it’s hard to get the right pressure through the older man’s jeans and he feels foolish. 

Sitting back as soon as he gets to ten. 

Arthur makes this little disappointed sound in the back of his throat before sighing and sitting up, grabbing the dice in one hand and making a show of tossing them for a second then rolling them onto the table. 

He has to sit up a bit to read them as John grabs another beer from a six-pack on the side table.

Laughing softly and looking mischievous. 

“Johnny-boy? Sit up for me.”

“Why?” John asks, instantly suspicious, “Tell me what it is first.”

“Pinch, ears, four seconds.”

John makes a reluctant sound but that’s not as bad as it could be so he sits up for Arthur to lean in close. 

Trying not to fluster as the older man shoves his hair back and grips his ears like he used to when John was younger and they stuck out more. 

Pinching and wiggling the lobes, softly, grinning at him. 

“My, what big ol’ ears you got for such a tiny lil’ brain,” Arthur says and John shoves away his arms at the four-second mark. 

“Shut up,” John mumbles and takes the excuse of grabbing the dice to get Arthur out of his face. 

Rolling them and staring. 

“Boobs, lick, six seconds,” Arthur reads out slowly, laughing softly, “Well alright then.”

“You ain’t got tits.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. 

“Got somethin’ close ‘nough, roll it again if that’s too scary for you.”

“I ain’t _scared_.”

And Arthur just quirks a brow at him in an obvious challenge and John takes a deep drink of his beer before slamming it down and turning towards Arthur, determined to make the older man regret teasing him so much. 

He grabs the hem of Arthur’s shirt and shoves it up and Arthur just keeps laughing at him. 

“Count,” John growls lowly then leans in and drags his tongue over the curve of Arthur’s pec, using the side of his palms where he’s holding up the older man’s shirt to push Arthur’s chest together like a proper pair of tits. 

Arthur’s laughter dies quickly. 

John licks over the older man’s chest, carefully avoiding Arthur’s nipple, feeling the friction of the older man’s chest hair on his tongue and cheeks. 

“Six,” Arthur says quietly and John sits back, roughly dropping the older man’s shirt and making an exaggerated face of disgust, grabbing his beer to wash down the taste. 

“You still use Old Spice?” John asks roughly. 

“... Yeah.”

“Tastes like shit,” John mutters then gestures at the dice, “Your turn.”

Arthur takes a moment then smooths down his shirt and reaches for them. 

Rolling. 

“Suck, neck, ten seconds,” Arthur reads out, a little more subdued then snickering softly and crawling closer to John, “Think I can give you a hickey in ten seconds?”

“You’re just usin’ this to make fun of me now,” John says darkly but he doesn’t move as Arthur presses against his side and makes a sound of hurt. 

“I would never,” Arthur whispers with all the affront of some cartoonish southern belle and John snorts then tenses as Arthur’s lips press against his neck and the older man’s scruff rubs against the sensitive skin under his ear. 

Arthur sucks softly for a second then harder, really making good on his effort to leave a mark. 

John stares at the TV, sees his reflection as it’s fading to a commercial, wonders what the hell they’re doing. 

Swallowing thickly when Arthur pulls away and his throat aches softly, pulsing in the abused spot. 

Arthur laughing again when he sees the mark he made. 

John shoves past him to grab the dice and Arthur grabs John’s beer since it was the last in the pack, taking a sip then setting it back. 

“Spank, ass, one second,” John mutters, “So, once.”

Arthur huffs and stands from the couch, turning around and bending over just a bit. 

“Get it over with and I’ll grab somethin’ stronger than beer.”

John swallows roughly and stands as well, twisting his arm and landing a firm hit with an open palm to one side of Arthur’s ass. 

The older man just snorts and straightens back up, turning and walking towards the kitchen. 

“S’cause you’re wearin’ jeans!” John argues, “You’re supposed to play it naked.”

“Oh yeah?”

“… Yeah, man, otherwise it just takes too fuckin’ long.”

“Thought you said you hadn’t played it?” Arthur calls back from the kitchen.

“Not these ones!”

He can practically hear Arthur’s eyes rolling and huffs, grabbing the empty bottles they’ve accumulated so far and taking them to the trash can, seeing Arthur rifling through his liquor cabinet. 

“Lookin’ for somethin’?” John asks wryly. 

“Somethin’ that ain’t gon’ give me a headache,” Arthur murmurs then makes a pleased sound, reaching for a bottle of good whisky John had gotten as a gift. 

Arthur turns the bottle towards him and tilts his head in question. 

“I gotta eat somethin’,” John mutters, “I don’t care, drink whatever.”

“Aw, you always been a lightweight.”

John keeps muttering darkly under his breath and a bag with some heft hits Arthur in the chest. 

It’s candy, the cheapest Valentine’s Day kind. 

“Really? You call _this_ eatin’?”

“Shut _up_ , it was on sale,” John moves over to his freezer and pulls out a frozen pizza, roughly turning on the oven and unwrapping the pizza. 

“… You actually upset or just bein’ a bitch?” Arthur asks, and his tone is more concerned than his choice of words would let on. 

“I’m fine,” John says, then sighs, “You’re just annoyin’ when you’re winnin’.”

“Oh?” Arthur says and John immediately regrets speaking, “I’m winnin’? Didn’t know we was competin’.”

“How’s it a game if there ain’t a winner?”

“Well how do you win?”

“Whoever chickens out loses.”

“Oh, Johnny,” Arthur says with a toothy smile, “You’re doomed.”

“Yeah?” John says and gestures back at the living room, “Strip, big guy.”

Arthur’s head tilts in surprise and he looks at John questioningly. 

“If we’re gonna play for real you gotta follow the rules!” John declares with a wide gestures before pulling his t-shirt up and off, flinging it at Arthur’s head. 

He doesn’t see the older man looking at him fondly as he’s putting the pizza in the oven. 

\--

They don’t strip down completely but they do end up just in their boxers, getting more comfortable and looser as they’re passing the bottle of whisky back and forth. 

John gestures at the dice as he’s struggling with a candy wrapper. 

“Roll for me,” John murmurs. 

Arthur shakes his head in amusement but obeys, rolling the dice and glancing over the results before sitting back. 

John looks up at him over trying to peel the taffy wrapper off without leaving paper behind on the half-melted bargain candy. 

“Well?”

“You read ‘em.”

John lifts up to see then pauses, re-reading and re-reading. 

“You wanna roll again, you can,” Arthur offers in a single moment of clarity. 

“I… ‘Tease, balls, three seconds’,” John reads out, brows furrowing as he sits back, “The hell does _tease_ mean? That ain’t specific.”

Arthur leans back against the armrest and makes a mournful sound. 

John’s confused expression is turned on him. 

“The hell’s that sound about?”

“Poor Abigail,” Arthur says woefully, being extra dramatic, “What borin’ sex she must’ve suffered.”

“You- I just-” John throws his hands out in frustration, crawling closer and kneeling between Arthur’s thighs, shoving them apart. 

Meeting the older man’s eyes for a moment, checking for permission, that this is actually okay and not just a joke. 

It’s kinda sweet, kinda too sweet, making Arthur’s chest flutter as his gut warms, John’s hands on his inner thighs. 

The younger man has a piece of taffy half-hanging out of his mouth as he looks down and moves one hand to ghost over Arthur’s balls through the fabric, his fingers rubbing and curling under the weight of them, but the pressure is too light to give any real pleasure, just teasing. 

Arthur swallows, he’d managed to stay soft when John was feeling up his thigh and licking his chest but his cock gives an obvious, interested twitch, no way to hide it with his legs splayed like this. 

John huffs and pulls back. 

His brows still a little furrowed as he meets Arthur’s eyes, bringing the same hand up to grab the taffy, tearing it in half. 

Arthur swallows again and sits up to grab the dice, quietly rolling them. 

“It’s the same as earlier,” Arthur murmurs, “Suck, neck, six seconds.”

“Bet you can’t leave a mark in six,” John says, lifting his chin up and showing off the mark that’s purpling on one side of his throat. 

Arthur shakes his head and re-rolls the ‘location’ die. 

“Lips?” John makes a sound of disgust, asking through chewing, then swallowing, “Like some kinda kid who don’t know how to kiss?”

“Do _you_ know how to kiss?” Arthur jokes but scoots closer and leans in, grabbing the side of John’s jaw and pulling the younger man’s face to his own. 

He lightly pulls John’s bottom lip with his teeth then closes his lips around it, tilting his head just a bit and studying John’s slightly-blurry face as he sucks. 

Tasting the sugary-sweet residue from the taffy.

John’s hands lift to the sides in his peripheral then freeze, mid-air. 

Arthur sucks a little harder, and maybe he runs the very tip of his tongue along John’s lower lip during the last second, before pulling back. 

John just stares at him, his lips parted, lower lip flushed and shiny from the abuse. 

“Uh…” John whispers then clears his throat. 

The over timer starts beeping that the pizza's done and Arthur nods towards the kitchen. 

“You gonna get that?” 

“What?” John whispers, hoarse. 

Arthur takes pity on him and pats the younger man’s cheek lightly, standing and going to retrieve the pizza. 

\--

He brings back two plates of pizza and napkins and a glass of water for John ‘cause honestly the kid’s had too much to not be drinking at least a _little_ water. 

John's quiet now, a little slow and out of it like all the booze is finally catching up to him, slowly munching through a slice of pizza then sipping on the water. 

Glancing at the dice, then Arthur. 

"Go 'head," Arthur murmurs.

So John sets his plate and glass to the side, rolling the dice, fidgeting. 

"... I don't-" John whispers, looking frustrated.

"Hm? Just re-roll 'em."

"Kiss, cock, four seconds," John says hoarsely. 

"Just re-roll it."

"... I'm gonna lose." 

"John-" 

"Can I… What if you keep your boxers on?" John offers quietly, "I won't actually touch you." 

"... Okay?" 

John takes a deep breath and another sip of what before looking up at Arthur as he shifts onto his hands and knees. 

Sideways on the couch, leaning down and pressing his lips softly to Arthur's cock through the thin fabric. 

Arthur makes a stunted sound as he feels John's lips shifting, two small kisses pressed against the shaft of his cock then John's sitting back and grabbing the other slice of pizza. 

Staring at Arthur cautiously with his legs drawn up between them as he nibbles on the pizza, not hungry but needing something to do.

In all honesty, he looks scared. 

"You good?" Arthur asks slowly. 

"... I don't wanna lose but I don't want you to get mad at me." 

"What?" Arthur asks, brows furrowing, "I'm not mad." 

"... Not yet," John whispers.

"Why would I get mad? I'm the one that wanted to play." 

"No offense, Arthur, but you kinda seem like the type," John says hoarsely, "Let a fella suck you off then hate his guts for makin' you queer." 

Arthur blinks at him in surprise.

"You think I'd _hate_ you?" Arthur sounds devastated by the thought. 

John takes a moment to react then shrugs. 

Arthur wipes his hands off then grabs the dice, rolling them a little roughly, then grabbing one and re-rolling it before John can even read it. 

"Massage, cock," Arthur says then looks John dead in the eye. 

"Arthur," John protests quietly. 

"C'mere," Arthur mutters and grabs at the younger man, stretching his legs across the couch and pulling John into his lap.

John blinks down at him then shies a bit, flustering and starting to squirm. 

"What was the time?" John asks.

"Don't matter."

"... S'kinda important to the game if-" 

"John," Arthur says roughly, "I don't give a damn about the game, especially if you think I'm gonna _hate_ you for-"

"But you ain't gay," John says, voice thick with confusion. 

"... I don't really got a preference," Arthur admits slowly, "S'just worked out that more ladies… It just…" 

"... You never said," John shifts himself in Arthur's lap, fidgeting with the hem of his boxers, "Even after I told you?" 

"Never thought it'd be worth the trouble unless I actually found a fella but… I didn't, so-" Arthur shrugs, not meeting John's eyes. 

"Oh," John whispers.

Arthur sucks on his teeth then looks up at John as he slowly moves to tug John's boxers down, getting a grip around the younger man's cock. 

Keeping his other hand's fingers pulling down the waistband so he can see what he's doing. 

See it's actually his hand on John's cock. 

Actually John's cock in his hand. 

John presses his lips together with a small sound, his hands moving up and gripping Arthur's shoulders as the older man squeezes him lightly. 

"Fuck," John whispers, "You're tellin' me all these years I didn't have to feel guilty jerkin' off 'bout a straight guy?" 

Arthur just huffs a small laugh and starts slowly stroking up John's length, pausing to play with the head, watching his fingertip ghosting over the shiny slit. 

"S'that a confession?" Arthur murmurs. 

"Jesus, Art," John says hoarsely, "You've got _no_ clue how many time I've fucked myself wishin' it was you." 

“Yeah?” Arthur looks up into his eyes and starts a steady pace, stroking John, “You got somethin’ bigger than that plug?”

John nods shakily and digs his fingers into Arthur’s shoulders, groaning softly and closing his eyes. 

“Fuck, _Arthur_ ,” John says, breathy and loose, hesitating for a moment then lifting up on his knees, fucking up into Arthur’s fist. 

“You ever think ‘bout toppin’ me?” Arthur asks quietly as he stills his hand, watching John’s stomach flex as the younger man moves, a bit of desperation in how he’s rutting, quick and sloppy, “How long would you last?”

“Art-” John whimpers and opens his eyes, looking down at Arthur and biting his lower lip hard, “Dunno- Not gonna right now.”

“Close, Johnny?” Arthur teases and starts lightly squeezing his fist around John’s cock with each thrust, the younger man faltering and panting, open-mouthed and hazy, chasing his end. 

“Please- Please- I’m-” John inhales sharply and stills and his cock jerks harshly in Arthur’s fist, pulsing come onto Arthur’s chest, streaking over and over and Arthur keeps softly tightening and easing his grip, watching, “Christ- _Fuck_ -”

Arthur huffs softly and drags his fingers off John’s cock, lingering to play with the flushed head then pulling his hand away entirely. 

“Good thing I took off my shirt, hm?” 

“Sorry,” John says hoarsely and he looks embarrassed, “Just- Felt so good, I-”

Arthur hushes him and John tucks himself away, pulling his boxers back into place, flushed from his collarbones to the tips of his ears, the booze flowing through him not helping in the slightest. 

“Roll ‘em,” Arthur says quietly and John just blinks at him for a few seconds. 

Slowly reaching over, leaning sideways, his knees squeezing Arthur’s thighs to stop himself from falling as he rolls the dice. 

“Uh- Suck, nipples,” John says quietly, “Would you rather me to just blow you or-?”

“John,” Arthur murmurs, “Just do what the dice say.”

John settles back in his lap and looks at him curiously. 

“I didn’t think you liked that, earlier I-”

“Was tryin’ to not get hard,” Arthur admits under his breath, “Go ahead.”

John makes a low noise in his throat, curious and wanton, looking down at his come on Arthur’s fuzzy chest.

Then he leans in, kissing the scar on Arthur’s chin, first, because he’s always wanted to. 

Smiling when he catches Arthur rolling his eyes. 

Leaning down further and kissing down the older man’s neck, chest, right over Arthur’s heart then bringing his hands up and cupping the older man’s tits, the mental thought making him laugh softly, muffled in Arthur’s chest hair. 

He can feels his come against his palms, takes a moment and rubs it up over Arthur’s chest, slowly, hesitant to see the older man’s reaction.

Arthur’s hand settles on the back of John’s head, fingers threading into his hair, gently applying pressure. 

John lets his mouth be guided to Arthur’s left nipple, moaning softly at the taste of himself on Arthur’s skin, dragging his tongue over the nub then closing his lips around it and sucking. 

Taking the opportunity to be more than a little handsy, groping and squeezing Arthur’s chest as he toys with the nipple. 

Listening to Arthur cursing softly, feeling the older man’s breathing speeding up. 

“Mm- You ever get off like this?” John asks and bites lightly, just setting his teeth then letting go, “No touchin’?”

“What?” Arthur asks hoarsely, sounding distracted and John leans back in, murmuring against Arthur’s skin. 

“No touchin’, Art. Just comin’ from me playin’ with your _tits_.”

The older man makes a choked sound when John squeezes and pushes his chest up and together, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling as his face flushes darkly. 

And, Jesus, he might’ve come to terms with liking fellas a long time ago but John’s always pushed him. 

“Shit,” Arthur whispers and tightens his grip in John’s hair, cock jerking in his boxers, trapped under John’s inner thigh. 

John hums and bites again, a vicious little nip that has Arthur hissing then groaning. 

“You wanna try?” John whispers, looking up at Arthur with his own come sticky and drying on his chin, eyes dark and heated and loving. 

Arthur makes a pretty pathetic sound of need, want, lightly grinding up against John, stroking over the younger man’s hair. 

John smiles softly up at him then straightens up, looking down as he adjusts himself in Arthur’s lap so the older man can rock up against his ass, encouraging Arthur to recline a bit more, then leaning back down. 

Biting softly all over Arthur’s chest then kissing the sensitive skin around Arthur’s nipple, featherlight, his other hand palming the other side. 

Making sure nothing’s being neglected, sitting heavier in Arthur’s lap, flicking his tongue over the older man’s nipple then sucking again, moving over an inch, sucking harder, aiming to leave just as dark of a mark as Arthur left on him. 

Arthur’s hands are roaming his thighs and hips, up his back, in his hair, restlessly petting all over John like he can’t get enough, can’t decide where to find a home for his grip as he gasps and groans and whispers John’s name. 

John rocks his hips lightly, thighs tensing at the stimulation to his soft cock, grinding his ass down, trapping Arthur’s cock under his weight, against the older man’s thigh, grinding harder. 

“John- Johnny-” Arthur whispers urgently, “Come up here.”

“Hm?” John asks and lifts off Arthur’s chest, looking at the older man questioningly. 

Arthur grabs the back of his head and brings their mouths together roughly, less of a controlled kiss and more of a desperate biting and sucking and panting against John’s mouth. 

Cursing and whining low, pressing his lips firmly to John’s as his cock jerks in his boxers, soaking them through with come. 

John slowly moves his hands up to cup either side of Arthur’s neck and lets the older man come down, lightly pressing his lips to the corner of Arthur’s panting mouth, then up against the older man’s cheek, brow bone, forehead, rubbing his thumb over the muscles in Arthur’s neck. 

“Was that alright?” John whispers and Arthur doesn’t hesitate to nod even if he feels like his words have been stolen from him, struggling to gather his thoughts into speech, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says hoarsely, tilting his head back and lifting his chin up in question, seeking another kiss. 

John huffs a gentle laugh and presses their lips back together, humming his contentedness into the kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> [horny twitter](https://www.twitter.com/swampslip)   
>  [tumblr](https://providentialeyes.tumblr.com)


End file.
